A Hell Bound Heaven
by M-Dragon
Summary: AU, Alt. Setting. KiGo Rating may change Kim is a highly succesful, 24 year old Vampire slayer. With Humanity on the brink of War with Vampires, shes taking on the task of killing a certain plasma weilding queen of darkness...simple...right?
1. Chapter 1  The Flame

Authors Notes: (I'll be quick)

New story for me, it's been in my head for a while, so getting it out of there and onto paper (and eventually the hard drive) has been interesting. I'm going to be going away on the 31st but I'll have limited internet access for the two weeks.

Disclaimer: The Characters within are more than likely copyright to Disney, unless stated by me. I'm not making any money out of this, simply doing it for my own perverted pleasures. Please don't sue me!

Summary: Set in an Alternate Universe and Alt. Setting. Kim is a highly successful, 24 year old version of herself, acting as a Vampire slayer. With Humanity on the brink of War with Vampires, she feels their only chance of success is taking down the most powerful before the war has begun. One of her targets is a certain plasma wielding queen of darkness. But, with her skill, nothing can go wrong...Or can it? KiGo, rating may change.

Journals will be indicated between - marks. Thoughts will be in italics.

Chapter One: The Flame 

---

Nothing is better to me than writing pen to paper. Thoughts make more sense when time is taken to write them onto paper; it is almost therapeutic for me. Plus, it would be silly to carry a typewriter around with me!

Although I loathe admitting it, but here at least I can be honest with myself. My enemy is winning. I have completed every assignment given to me without delay, to the best of my ability. Yet, they are still winning.

I have tracked down two of their leaders as the armies gather, but still we are on the verge of battle. I am only one woman! Any leader I kill brings down all of his kin. This should work in my favour, but it does not! When I finally defeat them, one always takes their place afterwards, with greater numbers of kin and a higher level of skill. They only choose the highest to give their allegiance to because of this fact, but I am at a loss; they just keep breeding…there is no end to them at all.

I have killed two of the more…important members of their hidden society. Rolph Demitris was my first. He had over fifty followers and was considered a great threat. I was given this as my assignment. I followed it through and defeated him.

The second was Pablo Vengard; he only had around thirty followers, but he was still deadly. I destroyed him, and in turn, his followers.

That is around eighty two of these foul creatures, fallen at my hand….and they are still here! They do not go!

I need to make further impact before I can go back. I sit here, on the banks of the river Garthyr, looking over _her _kingdom.

Yes, it is a 'she' this time; she is known as their queen…her followers are into the hundreds. If I complete this mission, we may stand a chance in this war.

She is known as 'Nightmare', but my sources indicate that her true name is 'Sera Gordon'.

She is powerful…like nothing I have ever battled before. I have heard rumours about her abilities; I can only pray they are not truthful.

I know the dangers this may pose; not only physical, but emotional also. My….preferences – for lack of a better word – are well known in this world and she is no old hag. I shall have to be careful with this one. I only hope she will have no interest in me. Only time will tell.

If I am successful, maybe others will brush off the idiotic notion of my talents being based on luck; and actually respect me

I will protect the ones I love by stopping this war before it starts. First, I require some special items to take this beast down; for that, I must visit an old friend.

The light in the Darkness

Flame

---

Shamyre – 11:00 PM (2300 Hours) "The Load"

The Town of Shamyre sat, as it always did, near the edge of 'The Shade.'  
It didn't sit here by choice; 'The Shade' was actually a forest that had a legendary status in the town; mainly because of its imposing shape and the stories told about it. The trees looked viscous and uninviting, their gnarled forms acted as a stationery threat to residents. The forest was a setting for horror stores told to children; mainly to get them to eat their vegetables – or any other 'icky' substance – or simply to scare friends with at campfires.

Very few people entered the wood, and even fewer returned.

Shamyre itself could hardly be called a town; it was more of a collection. It was started by an old man who 'Just wanted to be left alone'. He built his house somewhere where no fool would want to live, and lived happily for a number of years; before people decided to join him. The result was a rather humorous collection of odd folks, all strangely thrown together. The residents rarely argued with each other, but each was instilled with his or her own morals. Any traveller was immediately informed on each of these; just to make sure he was okay with them: Anybody who was not; usually ended up running from the town at high speeds.

It was the only town you could find a Vegetarian living on the same street to the Butcher and not cross a word with him. This was for two reasons; firstly, there was only one street in the town anyway, and secondly, whatever the hell anyone wanted to do in their own home was their business; as long as they didn't impose on others, they could be practicing necromancy for all the others cared.

The Buildings of the town matched their residents personalities and quirks, and as such, looked harmonious and completely messed up at the exact same time. Some of the buildings were in pristine shape while others had peeling paint and rusted nails. Some were only a single storey, while others were comprised of many storeys. Some were simply glorified tents and some resembled mansions. One house looked like nothing more than a Garden shed.

The town was obscure, in every sense of the word. For this reason; obscure sights were rarely noticed and made an issue of. Tonight would be no exception.

The town was deep in the glow of a vibrant full moon; the sky was void of clouds and the night was crisp; the only obstruction to the lighting came in the form of a light haze that had descended to the land. The fog was heavy and trickled into the various bumps and valleys of the ground.

The rhythmic drumming of hooves hitting the dirt echoed around the landscape, seeming louder in the deafening quiet. The sound of heavy breathing and the whither of a warhorse joined the noise and gave away the midnight visitor.

As the noises neared the misshaped town; a small silhouette played in the darkness. The shape kept to the shadows as it approached at high speed; its true form only hinted at by the soft rays of moonlight that slid around them.

They approached the town at breakneck speeds; finally forced into the glow of the moonlight. The lunar rays immediately gave their identity away.

They consisted of beast and rider and were an imposing sight. The beast was a strongly built warhorse; its inky mane reflected the light easily and hid itself well, while its white pelt drank in the lighting and almost seemed to glow with an ethereal feel. The animals hooves were hidden underneath the low fog; causing the mirage that the beast was somehow flying across the landscape. The fog was dragged from its resting place in the flurry of their movements and only laid to rest once their form had passed.

The rider was hunched low over their mount; eyes trained on the shape of a town ahead of them. Soft hands gripped the stallion's reigns with furious determination; the knuckles paled with the tight grip.  
Flaming red hair whipped backwards with the wind and showed her gentle face; now forced into a deep scowl. Her olive eyes assessing the situation quickly; darting around quickly to spot any dangers. Her lips were in a thin line and void of any emotion. The cold night was apparent as her breath came out in smoky gasps; her ears flushed with the freezing temperature.

Her black cloak was forced tightly around her frame to keep the bitter chill from her skin; it hid her body from the night and whipped backwards; seeming more like a shadow than cloth.

The town remained quiet and still as her form shot through; the thunderous beating of her mounts hooves hitting the stone path resounded against the buildings, but appeared to be unheard. She spotted her destination ahead of her; it stood out easily against the other houses. She tugged sharply on the reigns; the beast rearing upwards sharply. The stallion took a few staggered steps before dropping its front legs back down to the ground. With a snort, it stilled.

As the beast stood still, she allowed herself a few moments to breathe: Taking long, uneven gasps of chilling air that caused her throat to sting; the willed her heart to stop racing and her mind to settle.

Her eyes wandered to the house she had stopped in front of; it was a glorious sight in the day and just as impressive at night. It had two floors that were finely built and an attic that sat at the very top; considerably smaller than the other levels.  
It was made from the finest wood; kept in top form by the owners. Simply glancing at the woodwork told the viewer that the owners took very good care of their home. It was a beautiful home that had a lot of work put into it. A balcony hung above her; vacant at these hours and the front door was now closed. A sign hung down above her head; the letters painted on neatly in a soft green paint. It looked welcoming to her and caused a soft smile to part across her lips. She had fond memories here.  
_"Load and Co!"_

She sighed deeply, brushing her memories to one side; if only for the moment. This was not a casual visit; she needed to speak to an old friend. She did not have time to dawdle; while she rested and daydreamed, they bred and grew stronger.

She swung her leg from its place in the stirrup and pulled it over her mounts form; leaping away from it in a swift jump. Her boots thudded on the cobbles and the faint jingle of coins sounded; muffled by her cloak. She ran her hand over the soft hide of her mount and checked her saddle bags contents. A black Stetson sat on the back of her saddle; forgotten with her quick escape. She picked it up and ran a gentle finger around its rim. It was scuffed and dirty; but it had been with her for a long time. She smiled once again and laid it gently on her brow; shielding her face in the night.

After giving her stallions mane a quick ruffle and quickly tying him to the post outside of the home; she turned to knock.

Her knuckles rapped gently on the wood; the sound produced sunk into the house beyond. She did not want to cause too much noise, but she hoped it would be enough to wake them from their slumber.

She waited outside for a few moments; shifting uncomfortably. The sensation of being watched was unwelcoming now and made her twitch. She divulged into an old habit and began biting her lip. She did not like feeling, but there was no way to avoid it.

The door finally opened to her; a very tired man opened it for her. He was dressed in a dirty vest and softly wrinkled shorts that did nothing to hide his hairy legs. He was bare footed and was obviously bothered by the cold air the door had let in.

His hair was grey and wiry; it sat messily on his head. He was starting to lose his hair. One hand was clasped over his mouth to stifle a yawn; the other holding tightly to an oil lantern. It gave off a soft yellow glow that bathed the two figures. His eyes were half lidded with tiredness. It was painfully obvious he had just woken up.

He did not say anything for a few moments; attempting to work out who his visitor was. She had remained silent; simply returning his gaze.

His eyes widened suddenly at the realisation and removed his hand to usher her quickly inside of his home.

She took in the familiar sights as she looked around; the stairs stood to her right and the corridor continued in front of her. Everything was clean and tidy; it was almost surreal to see it that way. Paintings of family members and beautiful landscapes hung on the walls and as she walked passed, she took the liberty to examine them.

He walked past her and led the way down the corridor to an exquisite set of double doors. She recognised them instantly. As he pulled them apart, she stepped inside and took in the room. He mumbled something and walked back down the corridor to fetch the person she was visiting; his son.

The room she now stood in was the dining room. As she took in the layout; her mind was suddenly saturated with memories; laughter and joy filled her mind. She finally took the time to revel in her past; she had been here many times as a child.

The room was quite impressive; beautifully painted floral plates hung on the wall; bouncing the light that hit them. They hung delicately above an ornamental marble fireplace. The fire had been extinguished now; the last of the embers had died and left a sooty mess at the bottom. It had been an intimidating view when lit and left to roar; it flooded the house with warmth.

She strolled further into the room; her fingers gliding along the expertly carved mahogany table. When in use, it would sit at least twenty. It spanned the room and filled it well; its woodwork well used and beautiful. She smiled fondly; remembering when she was first allowed to sit around it.

"Oh, how I have changed…" She muttered softly to herself, her voices unheard within the room.

Her eyes spotted a familiar chair within the room as memories flooded back. She could remember her mother sitting on the chair, holding her in front of the fire; rocking her as she slept…

She scrunched her eyes harshly, as if the memories would leave her. She slammed the door on them once more, her past fading away. They were a distraction, a weakness.

What was once her job, a goal…now had become an obsession. As her enemies fell, the distance grew between herself and those she loved. With each death, she felt an emptiness grow. She would write frequently, always ending in the same old line, reused and as empty as ever.

_I'll return home to you all, once I have…_

Part of her missed them all greatly, she just wanted to see them all again. She could not return to them now, however. She had a goal to achieve, it was quite ironic really. She had chased every single goal she had set and met it well; so the universe seemed to give her this new challenge. A new goal to meet, with a twist; she had no idea what the goal actually was. She could feel it, but she had no idea what it actually was.

Whatever it was, it was plaguing her, but she couldn't return without it.

"Just because pale demons are awake this late…"  
The warm vocals brushed against her; the familiar feeling of safety rushing over her like the wind. She pivoted quickly; her hair spilling in its new direction and allowing her to see her host.

"It doesn't mean we all are…Flame."

Her host took the form of a young man; now slightly taller than her. His eyes gazed at her warmly and with understanding. His dark skin appeared paler in the moonlight that spilled into the room; he looked like a ghost. His black hair was ruffled and extremely messy; giving him the complete 'I just got out of bed' look. Added to his creased shirt and dirty jeans; he looked as scruffy as ever.

"Sometimes we need to imagine things from our enemy's viewpoint." She mused.

"Ah, but then we run the risk of becoming what we hunt!"

They drifted into silence once more, until steady smiles broke out on their faces.

The young man laughed warmly and went over to embrace his friend; the young woman welcomed it and returned it just as tightly. Her reasons for visiting may not have been joyful; but at least she was allowed to smile and joke with a friend again.

After a few moments, they separated, still holding onto their smiles. He held her at arms length and looked her over; examining the changes brought over the years.

The last time she had seen him, he had been little over sixteen. He had been shorter, scruffier (though that wasn't saying much) and slightly more confident. This present version was _slightly_ neater, he had grown considerably, but he had become ever so closed off. He stood there with a hunch; his posture seemed almost defensive.

For him, his guest had changed very little. She seemed to have gained some responsibility; it shone through her eyes. Her young recklessness had almost disappeared. He did enjoy seeing her be reckless and carefree; but he also worried about her. He never voiced his concerns, fearing she may feel he was attacking her abilities.

"Going to see your parents?" He asked, suddenly forcing them out of their thoughts. He heard an irritated groan come from her and saw her eyes roll. He knew she would respond like that, but he wanted to try, at least.

"You know the answer, Tex! I'm after a big one this time." She replied, breaking eye contact to watch the fireplace again. Talks about her family always distanced her from those she was talking to; she was sensitive around the issue of her family.

He let out a soft sigh, looking towards the ground. He hated when she tried to put distance between them.

"Considering these….times….and the circumstances, maybe you could just call me Wade…" He mumbled, catching her eye. She held his gaze before he added with certainty "Kim."

She forced herself to look away again; almost ashamed of the name he had used. That girl was flawed; she had weaknesses, she felt emotion. She wasn't perfect.

"Fine, whatever…" She drifted off, a new edge to her voice now. "I need items for my next target; Grade One stuff only. Payment in cash…as usual."

She dropped a bag of coins onto the table from underneath her cloak; her voice becoming cold. Wade scowled at the obvious anger in her voice, but decided to let it pass for more pressing issues.

"Grade One huh?" He stated calmly; grabbing the bag of coins from the table. He weighed them in his hand before motioning her to follow him.

They left the room through a separate doorway and walked into a completely blank corridor. It held none of the warmth of the rest of the house and was decorated in simple grey hues. It seemed cold and dead. There were no exits along it; just a strong, reinforced steel door that matched the coldness of the corridor. A small lantern hung next to the door; the only colour in the corridor came from the flickering light it gave off. The room at the end was as unwelcoming as ever.

"Not after the King, are we?" He asked with an amused edge to his voice. 'Grade One' equipment was only used for the big leagues; it cost more and worked quicker. The only reason she would need it was for a particularly powerful foe. He hoped it wasn't the King; she would surely die from such a mission. He left the care out of his voice when he spoke, but on the inside, he was worried.

He grabbed the door and pushed hard; hammering the bolt backwards to free the door. It was a heavy door; she could see from his exertions on it. He grabbed the lantern from its place next to the door and pushed the steel fully backwards, showing a staircase made from more cold concrete that spiralled downwards into the inky darkness.

"No; the Queen actually." She replied, watching him as he stepped through the doorway. His footsteps echoed through the doorway and downwards; giving her an idea of how far downwards they stretched. She followed his silhouette in the warm glow; stepping down the stairs with careful precision. There were no windows as they were now under the earth; the only light came from the lantern held by her company. She kept close; making sure to eye her steps. A fall this high may have killed her.

As they reached the bottom, he managed to create distance between them as she took in the new room with awe. Her eyes drank in the little detail she could make out from the limited lighting; the shapes ghosted on the walls.

His genius lay everywhere within the large room. The sheer size of the room gave her an indication on how many devises were working down here. Many of them would be on sale in his fathers shop, but many never made it out of this chamber; his lab. Walls were lined with peculiar machines that she feared to ask about; chemicals cluttered a nearby desk in seemingly innocent experiments; she knew they were anything but innocent.

He led the way through the gloom to another door; this time it was wooden and much easier to get past. She was almost too engrossed in the items around her to see what he was doing.

"Another door? Completely necessary this time?" She asked; leaning against a nearby wall, her arms crossed around her waist. He was too busy unlocking the door to answer her question. The answer was granted anyway; it was probably necessary, or he wouldn't have bothered with it.

He finally pulled the door open and left it ajar; leaning against the nearby brickwork to allow her access. He hung the lantern on an embedded nail as she looked in; her jaw immediately dropping.

This was his hidden closet; all of his most top secret, expensive, and sometimes illegal goodies were stashed here. They were not made available to anybody; save for a few close contacts. Kim was one of those people.

She gazed around at the many gadgets and gizmos stacked and hidden in this small but important room. She eased her way inside and ran her hand over the first thing she came across. It was a small wristband; easily concealed underneath clothing.

"Solar powered, ironic right?" He laughed, motioning towards the band, "It's a miniature grapple; should hold all of your weight if you get a secure enough hold."

She looked over at him; her emerald eyes asking for approval. He nodded softly.

"Take anything you need."  
She picked up the small devise and fastened it securely around her wrist. It was made of a strong thick material and looked more like a sweatband than a gadget. It was a dark blue, with two small buttons attached.

"The red one shoots it and reels it back in. The green one detaches it from the surface it's holding onto. I'd suggest writing that down." He smirked; watching her examine it. She seemed in awe at it, it was small and easily concealable; it was perfect for what she needed. He only hoped she wore it when she would eventually need it.

She looked up at him; her eyes showing the emotion she felt. Her lips bent gently into a smile.

"Thanks Wade."

He smiled warmly back, watching her continue to search around her.

"No problem, Kim."

-End of Chapter One-

Soon to be continued, check my Profile for up to date News


	2. Chapter 2 Ebony Tower

Authors Notes:  
Well, here comes chapter two. I probably won't get time to write chapter three before I go away, but it will probably be written soon. I'll try and get a good few up after my break!

Journals are in between dashes and thoughts, memories etc. will be in italics.

Chapter Two – The Ebony Tower

After collecting the equipment she would need for the newest mission; she said her goodbyes to Wade, quietly vowing to return soon for a friendly visit. She hated the distance that had grown between then, but it was unavoidable. She was away for long periods of time; she could hardly keep coming back just to talk.

She left in a hurry, leaving close to sunrise. Once she had packed the new equipment into the saddlebags and allowed her horse some refreshment, she was ready to depart. The sun had not broken the horizon yet, but its rays were already lightening the sky. The morning was crisp and clearer than the night. Outside, she took a large breath of the morning air; stretching softly.

She would miss the town, but for now, she had to concentrate on more important issues. She untied her stallion from the post outside and led him away from the woodwork before climbing onto the saddle. With a soft wave, she said her goodbyes to Wade. He watched her leave the town until the hills engulfed her shape and he could not see her any longer.

---

I am happy to have seen Wade, but he reminds me of home. I keep getting memories there, they are distracting me. I used to spend so much time there…

I cannot return to my family, it is no longer my world.

I must go to the town of Creeton if I am to examine this new target. She is not a hard one to track; her home is an elaborate ebony tower on the hills near there.

I will have to rent a room near there, I'll have to examine the entry points, the best ways to get in, the weaknesses….maybe even more importantly; the strengths.

I will strike there when I feel I am most prepared. She is likely to be a strong opponent and very well guarded, hopefully she will be a worthy opponent of me.

Only time will tell though, maybe then I can go home.

For now

The Flame

---

It was not far from Shamyre to Creeton; a days ride at most. She knew her mount needed to rest and Creeton would offer that. She had purchased him years ago; he was still as strong as ever.

She had been informed by his previous owner that his name was 'Fray'. She had kept the name because it suited him well.

After leaving Shamyre, the road to Creeton was straight through the hills and an expanse of grassy fields. The only obstacle was a strong river; she would need to take a few extra moments to locate the bridge, but if she kept to the dirt path, she would find it without too much trouble.

The sun finally hit the sky a little after she had left; shining onto the ground below. All that was in front of her was grassy fields, hills and the occasional tree or gathering of flowers. The sun would hit it early; transforming the landscape into a glowing mass of green grass. The dew would be fresh on the blades and would shimmer in the light. It was a beautiful sight in the morning. The one thing the Vampires could not take from her. They could not see this; she felt truly blessed by that fact.

She smiled as they pressed on; the rhythmic sounds and movements drifting into the background as they rode on. Her mind was already formulating a plan around this new target. Vampires were known for being strong in almost every sense of the word. They had years to practice fighting and train their strength up; they were very good with their words too. They were incredibly smart and usually sneaky. She hated their dirty tactics, their general outlook on life.

She would need to either take this one out at long distance; or fight her hand to hand. She possessed a good martial arts background and new some pretty decent footwork, but vampires were stronger and faster. Hand to Hand would be a last resort.

There was always the option of an ambush, but she had found already that this one rarely left her home. She had servants and slaves for the dirty work, even finding her food.

She suppressed a shudder at the word 'food' and moved it to the back of her mind. Maybe attacking during the day would be the best option, either that or a forceful take over. She did not have the resources for such a thing.

She pondered the options available to her throughout the day until reaching the bank of the river Garthyr. It was the one boundary that separated them from Creeton. It was late in the afternoon when she had reached its banks – opting for a small break. The stone bridge hung further up the river.

She dismounted quickly and led her stallion over to the cool water; settling herself down on the dry grass. The heat had been fierce today on both of them, he deserved to stop and drink. The grass became sparse close to the river edge until it was covered in small stones and pebbles that dipped into the glassy currents. She took out some of her reserves of food and took a quick bite; she had packed a few sandwiches and loaves of bread to see her through.

She had not come up with anything and now seeing the tower, fear coiled in her stomach. The tower was an imposing sight from this distance; she would not feel comfortable close to it, forget about actually being inside of it.

Her steed snorted as if he understood her thoughts and she smiled genuinely at him. He was simply an animal, but he had been there for her over the past few years.

The sun had glided through the skies, rarely blocked by clouds. It was now just behind the ebony tower in the distance, its rays curling around its form. It looked like a deadly silhouette in the sky; her hairs stood on end just looking at it.

She repacked the food and placed it back in the bags; patting him gently on his neck. He was silent; simply waiting for her to climb onto the saddle once more.

She placed her foot in the stirrup and launched her leg over to meet the other one before motioning him to carry on. The sooner they reached the city, the better.

The sun was sinking back into the horizon as they came closer to the town; the blue skies were now dominated by the dying colours of the light. It was a magnificent sight in the fields; the red hues reflecting off the grass and water of the river; casting the light everywhere. She smiled to herself once more.

_True beauty can be the simplest things…_

Dusk was beginning to settle once they had reached the outskirts of the city; the buildings were her obstacle from the breathtaking sights the country offered. She dismounted once she was near the buildings; leading Fray by his reigns rather than on his back. She wanted to keep a closer eye on him and on the road.

Creeton was one of the last big cities left in the world. It was magnificent in the centre; the main focus was the beautifully decorated market and the various stalls it offered. The place was vibrant with life and the gentle hum of people was always heard here. Around here were the various businesses; blacksmiths and stables, armouries and bakeries littered the street. Various Inns stood here too – her destination.

Further back stood the inner city houses; these were usually well decorated, well kept and almost always extravagant. They were for the rich, and the rich kept them. Children were a rare sight around here, but many people still walked through here. The children played near their homes mostly; their joyous laughter rarely strayed onto the main pathways.

The outskirts were the barren places, the place was rough and messy, and very few people walked through here. The cobbles were broken and covered in moss and grime. She stood; taking in the place she found herself. It looked like hell.

The only signs of life here were the occasional stray dog or beggar. The houses looked inhabitable and on the brink of collapse. She forced herself to keep moving through it; part of her horrified at the state of the cities outer areas. She could not stop to dwell though. It had been hard for her to admit, but she could not help everybody. She just had to do her bit.

The further she walked, the more people she saw, the cleaner it got, and the happier it seemed. People would pass and smile, children would dart past her legs, chasing a rogue ball through the crowd of residents. She could pick up on small snippets of conversation that were highlighted as people drifted past; she was hoping to catch anything about her next target.

She could feel the sun warm her from just beyond the buildings and found a smile slide onto her face. Her eyes and ears were assaulted with cries from nearby tradesmen, trying desperately to make a sale. She could literally smell the food and drink from the taverns and could nearly taste it too. The crowd thickened as she neared the centre; her hands tightly clenched to Fray's reigns. She could not afford to lose him in the rush of the crowd.

It was as she was walking, she heard a yell drift through the deafening roar of the city. She stopped walking abruptly, and listened. Her ears strained over the crowd for any sign of the noise. She heard it again, louder this time. It was definitely a negative sound, whatever it was. She swung her head in the direction of the noise; people unknowingly blocking her eyesight. She smelt the rough fumes of Ale as a burly man walked past with a rather thick barrel. She battled past the thrum of city folk in the direction of the noise. She managed not to get separated from her mount – which was a miracle to her – and finally found the dirty alley she was looking for. It was off the corner to a fruit stall and a Pub; the alley was littered with rotten fruit and empty barrels. It looked bleak and miserable; the low sun unable to touch it to brighten it. She pulled Fray into the alley and tied him securely to the remains of a crate; trusting him not to bolt from his owner. She brushed herself off, now out of the thick mass of people and took a moment to breathe.

She looked up to spy the source of the noise; she was internally kicking herself. Her do-gooder nature was going to get her killed one day, but at least she would die knowing she had helped somebody.

At the end of the alley, three men stood, surrounding a young woman. Her heart went out to the woman when she saw the scene; the three men were obviously drunk – one was still drinking from a whiskey bottle, gripped lightly in one hand. They were grabbing at her and laughing at her attempts to stop them.

She was crying; tears streaked down her cheeks as she attempted to get away. Her yells were becoming weaker, interrupted by sobs.

The three men were covered in grime, obviously either straight from work or just naturally dirty. She knew they would be easier to deal with when intoxicated, but their tattoo covered muscles still looked imposing to her. They were not weak by any means. Regardless, she would help.

She didn't need an invitation to step in; the fact it was already occurring was enough for her to want to help. She had things to do, but they could wait.

"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" She asked as low as she could; tipping her head so her face was concealed from them; the shadow of her hat easily hiding her identity and gender. They would not take her as seriously if they found she was a woman. As much as she hated it, it was a prejudice that she could not shake. Her cloak hid the rest from them.

Their eyes immediately swung to her, as did the frightened woman. She looked no older than eighteen; her sandy blonde hair hung in front of her eyes as she bent at the waist. One of the men switched his attention back to the young woman while one looked at Kim suspiciously. The other laughed and beckoned her over.

"Ya can come join us, if ya likes!" He yelled, slurring his words horribly. His bottle swung out at her and motioned her over. He laughed and took a clumsy swig from the brown tinted bottle. More liquid scattered the floor than was actually consumed.

His clothes were as grubby and creased, almost matching the others. His hair was horribly greasy and matted; his eyes half lidded with fatigue.

His companion grabbed out for the young woman and caught her small wrist in his palm. He was covered in dirt; black smudges covered her arm from where he had been attempting to touch her. She tried to pull her arm away, but failed and stumbled. Her hands easily glided off his strong grip.

"I'd prefer it if you let her go, she obviously doesn't like being touched." Kim spoke calmly towards them, tilting her head up so they could see her face. Four pairs of eyes swung to her again. Two of them filled with amusement, one with suspicion, and one with joy. The one with the bottle took a step towards her, laughing.

"Hey look, boys! Another to join us! Whatcha say, ma'am?" He slurred his speech again and advanced on her. Kim simply smiled; her emerald eyes glistening with humour. The woman looked at Kim with interest and hope; wanting to see if she would really be able to fight the man. Even though he was drunk, he was still strong.

"No, I'm here to tell you to unhand the young woman." She stated firmly, taking a step forward. The man advancing on her took a wary step backwards, nearly stumbling over the rubble in the street.

His friends laughed at his actions, causing his eyes to narrow. He threw out a hand to grab Kim; expecting to land around her neck. Instead, he felt soft hands circle his wrist. With a flurry of burning pain that shot up his arm and a painful crunch; his knees hit the floor as he cradled his broken wrist. He hunched over and yelled, swearing profusely.

Her eyes went from the man in front of her to the other two; almost challenging them to stick around. One of them pointed at her; his eyes wide with realisation.

"Your…your that Possible….what's it….Kim Possible!" He yelled; pointing at her with a grubby digit. She smirked and nodded softly, wanting to know what they would do in retaliation. Many men ran at this point, others wanted to prove themselves against her.

The woman looked up hopefully; smiling at Kim with genuine happiness. The man holding her wrist gripped it tighter, causing her to cry out in pain.

"I see my reputation precedes me, now let the young woman go!" She stated, this time with more force. She stepped forward, watching as they took a step back from her.

One of them laughed at her, however, causing her eyes to narrow.

"Let her go? So you can have her?" He laughed; knowing he had hit a nerve when her jaw clenched. She balled her hands into fists and took a few steps forward; the drunken man at her feet quickly moving out of her way. He seemed to know she was no ordinary woman and just wanted to be out of her way.

"Just leave her go on her way, before I make you!" She yelled, dropping into a fighting stance. They both grinned at each other; the smell of beer stinking the air.

They nodded at each other, speaking with silent understanding. It put Kim on edge as she examined them, keeping alert.

The one holding the woman's wrist dropped it roughly to the ground and walked slowly towards Kim, his steps awkward and unsteady. His companion joined him; he seemed to be the least intoxicated and posed the greatest threat. They went to circle her; one going to her left, the other slipping past to her right.

The drunken one struck first; grabbing her around the arms. She threw her back against him and kicked her legs upwards. He tried to remain standing as her weight left the ground; her boot flying up and throwing itself under his comrade's jaw. The sound it made resounded in the alley and he slumped to the ground. As her feet returned to the ground, she bent roughly and threw his upper body over her shoulder; his legs quickly following him over to avoid any further damage. He landed on top of his friend with a thud; the air thrown from his lungs.

She smirked at the pair of them; they were now covered in the filth of the alley on top of their own dirt. Rotten apples covered their already soiled clothing. Her eyes shot to the woman; she was hunched in the corner. Tears stained her cheeks but she was no longer sobbing. Her clothing was badly torn in several places, likely caused by the three drunken thugs.

She went over to Fray – he was getting irritable from standing there. She searched through the many saddlebags until she found what she was looking for: A soft, crisp white shirt.

She threw it over her shoulder and approached the hunched form of the woman. The young woman looked up as Kim approached; her blue eyes swimming in unreleased tears. She was hiding herself behind one of the larger crates, holding her arm to her chest.

"Are you Okay?" She asked; kneeling in front of the woman. The blonde girl said nothing, but began awkwardly rubbing her wrist.

"Your wrist hurts from his grip? Go get it looked at by a doctor, just to make sure its okay." She instructed, keeping her voice level and calm. She took the shirt off her shoulder and handed it to the woman in front of her. The young woman looked at her again and smiled weakly.

"Thank you" She said, her voice almost a whisper, "But, why?"

Kim simply smiled and stood, going back over to Fray. The woman stood and looked over at her as she untied her horse.

"…If I can prevent events like that, I should." She said, more to herself than the woman in front of her. She shook her head softly before leading Fray back out of the alley and into the main streets. Nobody stopped it from occurring, but her. Her stomach twisted harshly at that thought. People could hear it occurring, she could hear no better than anyone else. Why was she the only one that cared?

She put it to the back of her mind and started towards the many inns that littered the town, searching for a room for the next few nights.

--

I hate when I see horrible events happening, but am I the only one that even notices them? Can people really walk away from such events and forget what they saw?

If I had walked away, the look in her eyes would have plagued me forever. I cannot escape my compassionate past. It is not in my nature to give up caring. I must simply know where to draw the line.

--

The sun had already settled when she had found a suitable room for the night. The inn was nowhere near extravagant or beautiful, but it was cheap and comfortable. It kept the rain off her back and allowed her some warmth.

She had trusted Fray with the cities stables. He would be able to rest while she stayed here. It also meant he was close at hand. She would need him to escape rather quickly; vampires caught on to the death of a leader and she was sure she would have a good few on her tail.

Her possessions were underneath the small bed in the room, closest to her and safely hidden from any night time burglars. The only other furniture was a scuffed and dirty mirror and a small desk. A candle slowly burned from it and lit the dark room with its dim glow.

Her back had melted into the bed as soon as she had the chance; her muscles ached from the ride and she wanted nothing more than a good sleep. She needed the rest for tomorrow; she had planned to talk around about the occupant of the Ebony tower, hopefully getting a better idea about it, and her.

Her room had a good view of the tower – as was her request – as it lay out of the town. It was impressive regardless of its use; many turrets spiked from its main shape and ghostly figures could be seen patrolling them.

A green flash caught her eye as she examined the tower; it came from quite high up and sounded…unnatural. The crash that had come with it must have been deafening to reach this far. She suppressed a shudder as she watched for a sign of movement.

She waited patiently for a few moments, but none came. She decided against staying awake to watch, it may have been a trick played by her tired eyes. She stood from the bed and went over to the mirror; stretching her weary muscles. She was dressed in soft bed clothes and ready to sleep, but she wanted to stretch off the weary feeling that had overcome her. She knew she would be aching in the morning if she did not take the time to properly care for them.

Putting the rest of the pain down to fatigue, she marched back over to the bed and looked out for a sign of green light again. The tower was still, no movement was even suggested.

She scowled and threw the curtains across the window in irritation; lying back on the mattress.

Once she had extinguished the flame and settled back down, sleep came easily.

-End of Chapter Two-

I'll be writing a lot more of Shego's Part in all of this within the next chapter. They won't be meeting for a while yet though, you'll have to bear with me!

Updates won't always be this frequent, but I've got the first few chapters done.

Thanks for reading


	3. Chapter 3 An Old Acquaintance

Authors notes:

Well I'm back from Holiday, this chapter has taken ages for me to get right, sorry it's been so long! Chapter Four has already been started, so it shouldn't be too long.

Disclaimer: All Kim Possible Characters aren't owned by me, I'm not making any profit on this, just writing for my own strange amusement. Please don't sue.

Journals are indicated between dashes, but you already knew that, right? )

Chapter Three – An Old Acquaintance

Her sleep had been wild and restless. Her blankets had ended up skewed and wrinkled; a few thrown far across the floor. She found it annoyingly difficult to drift to sleep after being startled awake at the early hours. A skittish horse had destroyed a market stall; the fruit scattered and the noise forced her awake. She could not sleep well since, her mind refused to doze. When sleep finally consumed her, such horrid images plagued her mind and tortured her slumber that she was forced into reality. The unnerving images of her past had been forced from her mind since her induction. The screaming, the pain she felt…the blood…

She shook her head, forcing the images from her brain. It did not bode well to dwell on such things; she would need a clear mind for what was ahead. The images were simply down to nerves and hunger.

She took a rushed trip to the bathhouse, not wanting to stay beyond what was necessary. The bathing quarters were joined onto the inn. Patrons had to pass the bar and its drunken regulars to reach the door. She had awoken early for this reason, going down to the bar in her dirty bed clothes. She carried her outfit in her arms. The bar was deserted, one or two men were the only signs of life and they paid her no mind. She increased her pace across the wooden flooring towards the door. The bath was usually empty at this time, save the occasional woman. It wasn't women she minded, it was lecherous men. She did not fear their actions, only their thoughts.

The bath house was one large room; the showers stood to the left, benches to the right, and a large bath in the center. The bath was always filled but never heated. Cleansing chemicals were supplied at the users own risk, so it was smarter to simply bring your own. She placed her clothes on the side of the bath, her boots and hat joining them.

She washed quickly, keeping an eye on her surroundings. There were only three others in the bath house, each keeping to their own area.

She tried to relax in the cold water and eventually, her mind went back to the task at hand. She was to collect information today; she had a few contacts in the city. One of them was a friend of Betty's and also a friend of her fathers. She was a trusted source, so she would journey there first. Her mind went over questions she needed to ask.

Once she had soaked the grime away and felt more human than before, she got out of the bath and dried. Dressed in a dark red shirt and black slacks, topped with her boots and hat, she felt prepared for the day that awaited her.

She made her way back to her room once she was done and packed her dirty laundry into a spare bag. She collected the few devices that she needed, concealing them well. It seemed to be a chilled morning, so she took her cloak with her. Locking the door behind her, she left with a spring in her step, out to go find some food.

Crossing town was the hardest part for her; at the early hour, she had to ignore the situations where she would likely get too involved in. She was helping them in the long run; by saving their world, she was saving their lives. She ignored calls of help and went straight across town. The market was just being set up and the sun was just rising. Everything looked new in the early light, a fresh day to start anew.

She headed to a particular restaurant that served excellent breakfast. It was not extravagant or excessive, but it was the one place she trusted her cutlery to be clean and her meat to be cooked.

After settling herself into a familiar booth, she allowed her mind to wander on the task ahead, stopping only to order her meal. She needed to sort her mind; she only had one chance at this. The questions she needed to ask came excessively.

She ate her breakfast quickly and neatly, keeping her head down and the brim of her hat low, pondering the day ahead. The food was delicious and extremely filling; she had lived on bread and water for too long.

Finally finishing her food, she paid and left with a singular mission; to find her best chance at information. It was lucky she still remembered the address.

---

Today is my best shot at information; I am going to talk to an old friend. Betty will not be pleased I went to her, but I am hunting this one alone. What happened between them is their own business. I can only hope they see it that way…

---

The house in question was quite central to the town. It was not a very large house; the panelling was sturdy and held the structure up, but anyone could see it was not a new house. It was surrounded by mansions on all sides, making the small quarters seem more like a shack than a home.

With a nervous lump in her throat, she managed to knock the door lightly. It did not take long for the door to swing open to reveal the owner of the small house.

She was slightly taller than Kim, but hardly gigantic. Her blonde hair was stylised into a sweeping side parting that draped across one side of her face. Her blue eyes surveyed her guest with mixed feelings, eyebrows quirking into a confused glance. The woman was obviously beautiful; her figure was now hid under a bright white coat that hung down her back. She was an imposing sight for anyone.

"Ms Possible, what a surprise."

Her voice lacks any apparent shock from her guest, but she was always a guarded woman. Kim smiled at her, hoping to set the blond woman at ease.

"Good Morning, Dr Porter. May I come inside?"

Although the reluctance shows on her face, Doctor Porter is anything but hostile. Her body slowly moved to allow Kim passage into her home.

---

Once I have the information I need, only then will I be able to complete this mission. Vivian Porter is an excellent source for information because of her past. She knows who I am, and is more likely to be truthful with me. I can only hope she wishes to help.

---

She was ushered into a small, hardly decorated room that looked like a dining room. It only had a small table in the centre with a few chairs around. The walls were bare wood panels and the flooring matched. The only lighting was a group of candles that hung from the ceiling like a chandelier. There were no windows and the doors were thick. It was obviously a room for privacy. She felt safer talking within this room. The odd lighting gave the room a peculiar glow, almost ethereal.

"So, what does a highly classed slayer want with me?" Vivian asked, sitting down in the farthest chair on the table. Kim followed suit, sitting down opposite her.

"I need information, Doctor Porter." She replied casually, hardly moving her body. Everything about her screamed 'uneasy'. Her muscles were tensed up and her posture leaned away from the blonde doctor.

"Kim, call me Vivian." She spoke calmly, but her statement seemed more like an order. She wanted to put the redhead at ease, "What do you need information about?"

She sighed heavily, almost preparing herself for the long battle ahead. It was not going to be easy. She took of her hat, placing it warily on the table in front of her. She willed her muscles to relax, but the topic was going to unsettle the blonde.

"I need information…on Sera Gordon."

Vivian shifted uneasily, and eyed the slayer across from her carefully. Her body had moved to a more rigid pose. She avoided eye contact, obviously thinking her response over. A sensitive topic and best; It was what had started the rift.

"If you come here, baring Betty's-"

"I'm not here for Betty; I am here for my own goals." She quickly stopped the scientist before she got a negative impression on her visit. The rift had caused Dr Porter to abandon the Slayers and come to live in this city. Kim had not seen her since, until now. Vivian glanced over at the slayer; she seemed to be truthful.

"So, this isn't about the argument?" She asked for clarification. Kim bit her lip, giving away her nervousness. Vivian sighed and broke eye contact again, looking over the walls.

"Very well, but I will not go into detail."

Kim sighed; even a little detail was enough for her.

The rift had been an argument. Vivian had worked with Kim's dad on many of his old inventions and was showing a great scientific mind, when Dr. Director asked for her to join their cause. Kim had not been a slayer back then.

Sadly, Vivian and Betty had very different ideas on what the cause represented. Everyone assumed it was the usual problems. Vivian moved away and Betty went on controlling the slayers like she always had. Only recently, had Kim suspected there may be more to the story.

"You won't believe me, but you're barking up the wrong tree with this one."

Kim examined her closely, her eyes had gone distant and she seemed to be talking to the wall, rather than Kim. Still, she felt obliged to reply.

"What do you mean?"

"Sera Gordon…she has not broken the laws."

Kim looked oddly quizzical. Was Vivian unaware of the war that brewed? If killing Sera Gordon would continue the freedom for all humans, then she had to do it, regardless of the legalities.

"Vivian, you have heard of the war. She controls-"

She was cut off when Vivian laughed. Not a chuckle, or a giggle, but a full bodied laugh that sent her mind reeling.

"Betty's still the obedient lapdog for her boss, then?"

Kim frowned, although Vivian and Betty had been incredibly close, they were entirely different people. It seemed the doctor did not share Betty's views on global justice and peace.

"I wish you wouldn't call her that, she is simply trying to-"

"There is so much you have yet to learn, Ms. Possible." She cut her off with her soft words. Their eyes met again, showing Kim the truth in her words. Kim had been ready to defend her boss to the death, but it seemed Vivian was not in a hostile mood.

"Sera Gordon does not deserve your hostility. She may be cold, but biting sarcasm has never been that serious. If you are sure, Ms Possible, then I shall give you the information you desire."

Kim sighed, finally getting somewhere with the information she required. As she went over each of the areas she needed information in, Vivian listened intently. She did not want to disturb the slayer, waiting to hear all the areas before talking; Personality, habits, contacts, strengths…

Once Kim was finished, Vivian took a deep breath and met Kim's eyes, sliding back in her chair slightly. The slayer was still uptight, sitting forward.

"Well, she's your typical sarcastic ice queen, hold the ice. Her methods are shaky, but her morals are cast iron. She does not kill, Ms Possible."

The use of her last name had been rubbing her the wrong way, ever since Vivian had begun. She did not believe the facts she was hearing; a vampire that doesn't kill? It did not matter; they were breaking their laws by planning the uprising.

Vivian spoke the truth; she had been friends with the vampire for a number of years. Not once, had she even hinted at murder, or even self defence that went too far.

"She does not like keeping a pattern, but if you were to look for one? It would only be in the lack of something."

Kim gave Vivian a quizzical look; she did not quite understand what she meant. Vivian smiled, and added to her words; "Say, her lovers for example."

Kim looked interested, that area would be incredibly close to her target, it would mean a level of trust. It was a way into the castle, at least.

"In what way?" She asked, prodding the doctor for information.

"The fact that she never has any."

Kim's face fell; she was dealing with someone who kept people at arms length; Tough to work with, tougher to get close to. She needed to be close. She cursed mildly under her breath, leaning forward onto the table. Vivian kept her posture aloof, but was intrigued by her reaction.

"The only people that go into that castle are her guards and her cronies. Don't expect to break into there easily."

The redhead sighed and slumped all the way forward, losing her rigid façade for a moment. She felt beaten already; the tower was built to serve as her fortress, and there was no way she could get in with a hostile approach. Other methods were too personal for her liking.

Vivian laughed warmly at her apparent defeat; she seemed so ready when she walked in to her home. Now, she looked tired and overwhelmed.

"Act like that all you wish, Kim. You were warned that this would not be as easy. You got lucky with Vengard." She leaned back further, not meeting Kim's eyes. "Maybe you should focus on what you are to do, when you get in."

Kim huffed and sat back up, her eyes showed how fast she was thinking. She was in her element now, but it seemed to be betraying her. Her new foe would not go down easily. Beheading, burning and a steak through the heart were the traditional ways, but something in her gut told her she would not make it that close.

"What are her strengths?" She asked quietly, still thinking over the problems she now faced. She needed to know her enemy.

"Why not learn her weaknesses instead?" Vivian asked, confused at the redheads logic, or lack if it. She did not wish to betray her friend to a slayer, but it was not possible to maintain a friendship with her for long. If she did not help Kim, then the redhead would simply be running into her own demise.

"Her weaknesses could be fatal, but if she has the strength, she can cover them." She spoke lightly, her eyesight hardly focusing on anything within the room, "Besides, sometimes our strengths can be our downfall."

Vivian smiled; the slayer was not as stupid as she first thought. True, knowing strengths without weaknesses was useless, but the same stood for when the situation was flipped.

"She has the usual things, strength, better senses, an increased lifespan, and people surrounding her willing to die for their mistress…" She faded out, smiling, "but all those are small compared to what she can _really _do."

Kim looked at the doctor once more, analysing her expression. She looked amused, but her eyes showed her mood; it was dark. It was only once she had seen the power…never again did she want to witness it…the fury it brought…

"What can she do, that the others couldn't?"

Vivian laced her fingers together and sat back, deciding on whether to tell the girl or not. Sera Gordon was dangerous, and she wanted to convey that message. However, if she was seen as dangerous, it would only back Kim's idea of a monster that needed to die.

"Her genetics were changed as a child, some call it black magic, and some call it the work of Satan. I don't know what to believe, but I know she's unlike any you've ever fought." She paused to let the facts sink in. Kim didn't seem to like that idea; vampires were vampires to her, cold and evil. They were all the same, the same generic basis for a cold blooded killer.

"I'd tell you how her genetics work, but I have no idea. All I know is, she doesn't sleep. She's up at night with her clan, and up all day with the humans. She doesn't sleep, she doesn't need to."

Kim went wide eyed; a vampire that was up during the day? Where did she get her energy from? Did she need to drink more blood than necessary to allow her to? Her mind was assaulted with question after questions Vivian could not answer.

"Don't ask how she doesn't turn to ash, I haven't a clue. She can't take direct sunlight, but she can take tamer doses. No, I don't know how. No, I don't plan on asking her." She stated soundly, eyeing the slayer again. She seemed lost again, her defeated look had turned to confusion and resolve; there was no convincing the arrogantly stubborn.

Vivian simply waited for the next question.

Kim blocked the questions for now, she would have to answer them herself, for now, she needed answers from Vivian. There were only a limited amount of topics she could cover, so she took the bull by the horns, and went at it directly.

"Does she have any personality flaws?"

Vivian chuckled at the question; it was not every day she had to analyse the enemy. She missed the old days greatly, but she could not go back now.

"I thought only the bad guys played rough." She spoke without spite in her voice, only communicating the truth. Instead of blushing, Kim's eyebrows narrowed, she did not appreciate the attack, but Vivian continued, "She has a terrible anger if you know where to provoke. I wont tell you where that is, you'll have to find out. She hates ignorance and sexism generally. She's quite level, but she has a wicked temper and incredibly impatient. She enjoys banter between her enemies and generally uses sarcasm. Beat her in a battle of the wits, and she'll snap. Her biggest flaw is her laziness. She could take over the entire world, if she so wished." Vivian paused to see Kim's eyes widen. It was clear what she was dealing with, but it was certainly a disturbing thought. "Its just lucky she's content."

Her days of being friends with the hot blooded woman made her smirk still; she was never bored around Sera. She may have been quick to anger, but her company was always amusing. Very often, she would be upset to leave.

Kim thought over the information she had received, thinking over what had been said. This was not the normal foe for her; Narcissism and sexism were huge qualities in all of her past targets. It was a new thing to her to meet a vampire with such unique traits. She would be running into this task blind. Something told her to stay away from the woman, to run and forget about it, but the driving feeling was back. Something was missing, an inner peace was being jeopardised by this vampire. She needed to go to that tower and confront it. Only then, would she be happy.

---

I am not happy with the current arrangements. I do not know enough about my target to constitute this attack, but I must go through with it anyway. I feel as though destiny awaits me; a foolish thought, but a strong feeling. If I were to die in that tower, I feel as though fate meant it.

I miss my family roots; I wish I were with them once again. Only after I feel content, can I go home. Justice demands my presence here, for the war, for my future, for everyone's future.

I can only hope that after this, I feel truly content.

---

-Ivory Tower, that afternoon-

"…Even in the city, they are very aware of your presence and the fear you put into them, even the mention of your name…"

His voice had drowned into the background long ago, a mere distraction from the buzz of activity around her. It was like an old record; his voice was always in monotone, never excited, never happy.

Her tower was always alive with activity; an ironic thought, considering it was a landmark of the dead. It was built for her, by her. Though, not literally. Her interests spanned many genres but architecture and construction had never been one of them. She simply gave the orders and had her people do the rest.

She currently sat in her throne room, gloriously decorated with rich greens and dark pools of black. Naturally. Drapes hung from the high ceilings, sending peculiar shadows across the large room.

It served as her amphitheatre to the city. If you had a problem with the way things were done, you made yourself known. You got dragged in here, you talked about it for five minutes and if she wasn't convinced, you got nothing. Generally, people lost things in this room, rather than gained.

It was a large circular room that spanned the entire ground floor of the smaller tower. Above her slept the others, she was not foolish enough to sleep in the same building as them. Her living quarters were in the larger tower.

Only one word could describe her current posture; bored. She had no signs of activity; her eyes were closed and her head rested back. Commonly, she was thought to be sleeping, but with little need to do that, they knew she was awake.

There was just nothing to do today, besides listen to her servants prattle and her guards chat. The incessant chatter in the background came from her advisor; though he did little advising. He was more of a…talker. He spoke the things she needed to do, and suggested others. If she disagreed, that was the end of the matter. Period.

"…Damien will be here next month for the grand gathering, hosted here…"

His words succeeded in getting her attention, her eyes opened and gazed at him curiously. It was true she was the most powerful woman in the world, but that egotistical male always came top trump. She would have disposed of him years ago, had he not been Lucifer's favourite.

"If he brings thirty of his most beautiful minions and shuts up for the entire evening, he is most welcome in my home." She drawled, closing her eyes again to ponder the topic. She did not need to look to know the room. Her guards would notify her on any dangers and her manners in the tower were never under scrutiny…for long.

"…Mistress? Should I send a message to him with that?"  
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. It was interesting being the ruler over so many, but the art of sarcasm was lost entirely. It seemed she could not joke with them any longer, they feared her too much.

"No, you need not worry about that."

He carried on as normal, speaking about the damn gathering. It was her turn to host it, but it did not mean she had to be a good hostess. They could come, they could stay. After the weekend, anyone still in her house would be a charred lump on her beautiful flooring.

The Gathering was one of the most important aspects of her lifestyle, damn it. It was – as the name suggests – a gathering, of every single member of the retched species she belonged to. She had to smile, she had to laugh, she had to socialise. She had to like their decrepit corpses; she had to enjoy their soulless company. It lasted the entire weekend, where many guests would end up enjoying their carnal pleasures, the taste of alcohol and blood and meet others of the same social standing.

She hated it with vengeance.

She was obliged to be a good hostess; she had to ignore the suggestive comments, the disgusting displays and the horrid company. At least she did not have to like it.

Her boredom was shattered into tiny pieces at the arrival of a messenger. He ran into the hall yelling, interrupting the steady flowing of her house and its members. Servants leapt out of the way and maids stumbled back as he made his overzealous entry to her home. It seemed she now had something to do.

He stopped in front of her throne and collapsed onto the black marble flooring to catch his breath. She allowed him this, until his face was slightly less red.

Her eyes were alert and looked over the arrival; he was dressed as a guard. There may be news about the town, or news about an enemy. Either way, she now had something to occupy herself with.

"…M…M…." He tried to talk, but his large raspy breaths caused him to stammer and stutter. She smiled almost evilly, as if his discomfort was her doing. She sat upright, her legs crossed gracefully; moving with the elegance of a dancer. Her form was slouched but she was as attentive as a predator.

"Mistress…" He began, finally able to catch his breath and stand. The word came out in a fast stream, as if he did not trust his voice for any longer. She nodded for him to continue, her eyes fixated on him. He whimpered and visibly shook, but carried out his message all the same.

"A slayer Mistress…in the city…" He still seemed unable to catch his breath, his fear now overriding his need for oxygen.

Her form changed almost immediately. She back straightened and she leaned forward. Her constant smirk was gone, replaced with creases of worry.

"Just one?"

Her voice echoed off the walls and carried itself far across the room, even though her original words had been quietly spoken. Her servants could hear the worry laced under her confident tones.

A slayer was a problem for any vampire, especially one under the laws their mistress was under. She was bound not to kill; a slayer could not be gotten rid of easily while alive. It posed a big problem.

"Yes…down in the city…staying at an inn…"

She sat back into her throne, her eyes no longer burning into him. They simmered on the distance, her fingers lacing together. Her mind was no longer in the room, but the tension was thick. They waited a few moments; the only movement coming from her was her steady breathing.

She broke her revere by looking pointedly at the messenger, her green orbs flaming in his direction.

"So, who is he?"

The messenger looked back with a look of confusion, not knowing who 'He' was. He replied as such: "Who do you mean, Mistress?"

She smiled, cruel undertones filling her expression, "The little slayer who wishes to play, of course."

He relaxed visibly, sighing as he did so. It would seem that the question was a simple misunderstanding, and not an attempt to confuse.

"Oh, no Mistress. It is a woman." His voice almost seemed amused. Nervous laughter sounded around the room

She looked over at him and smiled again, her mind analysing the situation. A young female slayer wishes to play? Her boredom was certainly not a problem now.

"So, what does this woman look like?"

She had met many slayers in her time; she possibly knew this one. It would be the difference between a friendly acquaintance and a tough battle.

"She's quite tall for a woman, shorter than you, Mistress. She's young, in her early twenties, green eyes…" He furrowed his brow, as if trying to remember something. She waited patiently for him to finish, her mind forming a mental image of this slayer. She had always been a big fan of the phrase '_Keep your friends close, and your enemies…'  
_"Red Hair!" he shouted, breaking her out of her thoughts suddenly, rudely. Her eyes shot to the messenger, latching onto his last words and digesting the information fast. Red hair was rare in this area, there was only a handful of people with such colouring, and only one who had been trained …This was no mere slayer; this was no text book fighter that could be corrupted by evil.

"Possible!" She spat, venomously. She had never met the woman, but had heard what she had done to their race. She was the typical 'goody goody'. She embodied the term 'Heroine'.

"Mistress, you know her?" He asked, his tone converted back to fear now. His mistress looked positively venomous. Her green eyes burned with emotion and her hands gripped the arms of her throne with sharp nails.

Know her, hate her. She had heard about what that little pest had done to Vengard. He was a close friend and had never done anything against the laws. Her hands tightened into fists as she thought about it. She had been in the room, had seen the fight…the little woman had gotten lucky.

"She's a bothersome pest." She spoke more to herself than anyone else. "Still, every cloud has a silver lining…" Her words were calm and slow, as if extreme thought had gone into each one.

If she wanted to play, then she would entertain the little slayer. At least until she got bored with the situation.

Her boredom recently had only been amplified by a lack of action, things to do and the annoyance of her underlings. Maybe a little relief was on her way.

"Send a guard to extend an invitation to her. If she refuses, send the gorillas."

By gorillas, she meant her favourite Henchmen. She had forgotten their names, opting only to see them as brainless monkeys with biceps the size of dinner plates. With no necks, thick hairy arms and a forehead that extends further than their nose; they were undeniable proof that man evolved from apes. They just hadn't gotten that far.

"Yes ma'am, it will be done right away!" He said; eager to get out of the room.

She leant back and allowed her thoughts to mull over the situation. This slayer was not to be underestimated; she was a powerful fighter and a quick thinker. Hopefully, she was not as hostile as expected.

-Creeton Inn 5:00PM-

The sun was just setting as she entered the small room once more. The room was far from dark, but she lit the candle on the desk anyway; she planned to be there for the evening and the light source would be needed when the sun finally left the sky.

Her day had gone better than expected; the information she was able to collect had helped her create a picture of the target in her head. She knew how the attack was going to go; she just needed to get in to the castle to carry it out.

She went over to her things tucked beneath the bed and brought out a small bag that she planned on using. It was not the best way to conceal weaponry; but it was rarely thought as in such a way. People didn't expect you to do things so bluntly, which gave her an edge.

She packed a few choice objects into the bag from her pile of equipment; the typical slayer things, with added technology from Wade. She would lament on a way to get into the tower tomorrow and make her attack when it was most appropriate.

She paused as she picked up a bottle of blessed water; Vivian's words still hung heavy on her mind. _Her methods are shaky, but her morals are cast iron. She does not kill, Ms Possible._

Was she doing the right thing? Sure, the vampire had not done any direct harm, but by supporting this horrid war, an action that would kill many…surely stopping her now would be the best thing for all. So, why was she questioning herself?

She threw the remaining items into the bag and tucked it under her bed once more; it would be there for when she made the attack.

---

I am afraid of having second thoughts about this, but something in my gut is telling me not to go through with the plan. I assume it is simply nervousness, Vivian did tell me of her power. I can only hope that once I make it into the tower, I am able to-

---

Her pen broke away from the paper as the sound of knocking filled the room. It would seem she had a visitor, but whom? The only person she knew in the city was Dr Porter and she had already seen her today.

She was not overly cautious, but she was not foolish. She slid off the bed gracefully, her hands reaching down to her waist. She felt the reassuring coolness of her dagger on her fingertips.

The knocking came again, louder this time. She got up from the bed and walked slowly over to the grubby door, each step made with careful precision. She put her hand on the doorknob and the other on the hilt of her dagger, just in case.

The door swung, as did her dagger.

The door opened to reveal a group of guards, the guard in front of her looked overly startled; he was not expecting the attack. He now stood, unarmed, with a curved and sharpened blade at his jugular. He wasn't prepared for such an occasion and the men with him were equally as shocked.

She kept her pose, her body defensively behind her blade. Her entire arm was tense, ready to make a move at the slightest cue. They seemed, however, to be quite confused, so she allowed herself the time to look them over.

The closest was dressed as a normal town guard; a short helm that protected his head, but showed his face, a simple suit of chain mail that was covered with a black shirt and brown leather pants that tucked into grubby boots. He carried a sheath at his waist that usually held a sword. His entire garb showed that it was well worn, many of the pieces of metal having scratches and dents in them; sometimes even stained with the hue of blood.

Noting his lack of weaponry, she removed the blade from his throat but kept it in her hand; its slight weight on her limb gave her a soft reassurance. There were around seven men, each with armour. If the meeting turned sour, it would be harder to defend herself against them without some sort of weapon.

"What business do you have here, at this hour?" She asked politely, keeping a firm grip on the blade in her hand. The guard that had knocked had gone exceptionally pale, too startled to speak. His company seemed equally dumbfounded at the aggressiveness.

She waited for them to speak, looking each one over. They all looked like normal guards, but their colours did not match that of the city. They wore black, while the city guards wore blue and red stripes. They were obviously from elsewhere, but exactly why they had visited her?

"We are here to extend you an invitation, Miss…" The head guard paused, waiting for her to fill her name in for him. It was also a way to check her identity, but with her welcoming, they had little doubt that they had the right room. His voice was thick with the accent of the city, he must have been a local man; it seemed strange that he did not wear the city colours.

"Considering you came here, you should know." She replied, shifting her weight to one foot, her body resting itself against the door. "But, you can call me Miss Possible, if titles are needed."

They eyed each other, making sure they were correct before continuing. This was the slayer they had been looking for; she had the red hair, and shared the name their Mistress had hissed.

"Our Mistress extends an invitation to her tower, Miss Possible. We have come to escort you-"

He cut himself off at the look she was giving him. It was a strange, sceptical look.

In truth, she did not know whether to go. It was obviously a trap; she had never met the vampire before now and had never contacted her. It seemed to far too convenient that her enemy would simply invite her into their home.

Then again, what other options did she have? Could she break into the fortress, or was this her only hope at getting into the stronghold?

She did not like how pushy they were being about the matter, either. She had not complied yet with them, and they were already treating her as if she had accepted the offer. Besides, it was quite late in the evening (though; early if you were a nightwalker).

They watched her curiously as she sighed, standing on both feet again. Her hand went to rub her temples, hoping to dissolve the situation. Finally, logic won over instinct.

"May I have a few moments? I have a few things I would like to take."

It was easier to simply go now; she was ready for her attack and just needed a way in. Trap or not, her curiosity took over. She may have time to develop a better plan if she were to be in the company of her target.

They looked at each other, unsure on whether or not to allow her to gather the items. It would only make her more dangerous, but so was allowing her into the tower. They were never quite sure how their mistress logic worked, but they were aware she wanted the slayer unharmed.

"Yes, that will be fine." A chilling voice spoke out; echoing off the wooden walls and sliding past her into the room. Her entire body bristled as she felt the sensation wash over her; it was as if the voice were coming from right behind her.

She looked up to spot the owner of the unsettling accent, but could not catch sight of anyone who it may have belonged to. All the guards looked equally as puzzled, besides the apparent leader, who nodded.

"Take as long as you wish." They assured her, hoping to set her at ease again. She seemed quite startled at the voice, and its owner. The voice belonged to their superior, who was only here to make sure everything ran smoothly.

She closed the door quickly, banishing the icy air that seemed to flow from the corridor now. She rubbed her arms tentatively, almost as if to check her own reality. The voice was unsettling and made her want to bolt; it took all her willpower to remain where she was.

She quickly set about gathering the items she needed; she dropped to her knees in front of the bed and dragged the bag from its resting place. She checked it once more, counting out the items she would need in her head.

Along with the obvious, she grabbed her own possessions also. She placed a few spare outfits on top of the gadgets to protect them from wondering eyes. She snatched her journal from the bed, where it had landed and placed that on the top of it all.

Placing her hat on her brow, she threw the bag over her shoulder with ease, its weight pulling her down only slightly. She also grabbed her cloak and her sword before checking herself in the mirror.

She smiled at her reflection; her hat hiding her features well. She felt comfortable within the façade she had made herself. She felt truly at home in her skin.

She opened the door once she was certain she had everything; her bag stuffed with her possessions. The cold feeling flooded her once again, chilling her to the bone.

"May I collect my horse from the stables?" She asked politely, gripping the strap of her bag uncertainly. She wished to take Fray with her for a quick escape, only hoping they would allow her to collect her steed.

She never received her answer.

She noticed the guards eyeing something behind her, but before she could turn to look, pain laced through the back of her skull. Her mind reeled as she felt her body collapse under her, her vision turning to black.

--

Thanks for reading guys, I know this has taken a while to get out, but life has a way of being quite frantic. I'm starting college next week, so again, updates may be infrequent and jumbled so you'll just have to put up with me for now. I have no idea what my schedule is going to be like, or how much time I'm going to have.

Many thanks again, I hope you enjoyed!

All questions and more will be answered in the next chapter!

**M-D**


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